Page 68 of A Tragic Melody

Her platinum hair is the first thing I see when my vision adjusts. She grips my shirt, shoulders shaking as dampness forms on my chest.

My brain is slow to catch up with the situation, but my cock isn’t. All it knows is the girl I might have a thing for has her head on my body, and it’s been a long time since a female has been against my body.

“Tues?” I ask, trying to assess the situation. She whimpers, and it clicks that she is crying. “Hey, Tues?” I ask, touching her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

She shakes her head, burying her face into my shirt as she sobs.

“Um…What are you…”

“Please,” she mumbles. “Just…” Her voice is slurred, and I piece together that she’s drunk.

I reach to turn off my music and check the time. It’s three in the morning, and I have no idea what is happening.

I let my hand rest against her back as I try to get my bearings. I can tell the bus is moving. It’s been hours since the show ended, so that means we are on to the next show.

My fingers take to stroking her back. I know I should stop whatever this is. She shouldn’t be in my bunk, much less so when she is drunk, but part of me is too exhausted to care.

“Wyatt,” she cries my name. It makes my heart hurt to hear her like this. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey,” I say softly. “I know. You didn’t know.”

“Why do I keep fucking everything up?” She lifts her head, looking up at me. Tears stain her cheeks. Her voice is heavy from the alcohol. “I can’t stand it anymore.”

“You’re drunk, Tues. Don’t think about that stuff now.”

“I’m horrible.” She lays her head back down on my chest, but this time looks up at me. “You’re the only one who admits it to me. Everyone else knows it’s true, but pretends I’m not to my face.”

“Stop.”

“Tell me, Wyatt. Tell me how you really feel about me. I need to hear how awful I am. Please?”

“You aren’t awful.”

“I need you to tear me apart.” She blinks out tears. “Hurt me. Please? I need it.”

“I can’t, Tues. I don’t want to hurt you.” My hand continues to stroke her back.

Her lips tremble. “Everything hurts.”

“Shh.” I rub her. “Just sleep it off.”

I just lay there, letting her cry into my chest for a bit until she stops shaking and her breathing evens out. Her grip on my shirt relaxes, and I let my eyes roll shut again.

Tomorrow this will be a problem, but for now I just let it happen.

When I wake up, Tuesday’s body is wrapped around me, her leg draped over my thigh. I didn’t notice last night, but she isn’t wearing any pants. The shirt she wears is inched up, showing me her thighs and the straps of her thong.

My cock is stiff as it has been every morning this week. I haven’t done anything about it, but now I wish I had because it aches, and I don’t want her to wake up and see it.

I stare up at the top of my bunk, willing it to go soft before she wakes up. It’s been so long since I got off. The other night was the closest I’ve been in months. I had no desire until then, but it’s only intensified since. I feel like I’m twelve again, drooling over some girl.

Part of me wants to wake her up so she can leave me alone, but I know it’s going to be hard to hide my erection, and I’m in no mood to deal with whatever she has to say about it. There is a part of me that hopes she offers to help me out. I would have to deny her, but God I wish she would just touch me.

I can’t lie, sleeping with her body against mine might be the best sleep I’ve gotten in a while. The warmth of her body feels like a nice blanket. It brought me a comfort I didn’t know I had been missing. It’s been so long since I held someone.

I shift, trying to ease some of the tension in my body. It’s not that it’s not nice to have her here, but right now my cock aches.

She stirs against me, snuggling into my body.